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1 September 2022
(Thursday) - This n That
I
had another restless night but this one might have been better had Treacle's
stomach not been rumbling and gurgling quite so much. I did my usual morning
routine and slipped off to work leaving everyone snoring at home, and soon
was on my way to work. As
I drove there was a lot of talk on the radio about the ongoing cost of energy
crisis. The head honcho at Ovo (the third biggest energy provider in the
UK) was being interviewed. He suggested a scheme whereby the basic cost
of energy is cheaper, but gets more
expensive as you use more. Sounds strange to me... no matter how you
fiddle it about, if people can't afford the energy bill
they won't use the stuff. Leccie and gas has got to
be a lot cheaper overall. There's no point in halving the bill for the
first week of the month if you double the bill for the last week, is there? And
the international inspection team are on their way to give the Ukraininan Zaporizhzhia nuclear
plant a once-over. There's a lot of concern about the place... With
Europe's biggest nuclear power station in a war zone, quite rightly so Meanwhile
Ravil Maganov (The
chairman of Russia's oil giant Lukoil) has died after "falling out of a
hospital window". Apparently shortly after Russia invaded
Ukraine he publicly called for the war to end. Perhaps if he'd kept his trap
shut no one would have pushed him out, would they? I
got to work where it was raining, and whereas yesterday had been a MGUS sort
of day, today's theme was "target cells"
which are *not* called “codocytes” by
anyone except Wikipedia. But again being on an early
shift meant I got away promptly. I
drove to the Skoda dealer; the nice man said he’d have a look at the damage
to my car (from when it got scraped two days ago). I had considered
just leaving it and driving round in a scratched car, but the passenger door
was making a rather nasty crunching noise every time I opened it. The
nice man said they didn’t do bodywork, but he told me of a garage that did. So I drove for two minutes to Alpha Rapid Repairs where the
nice man gave the front panel a clout and sorted out the nasty crunching
noise. He took a few photos of the damaged bits, including the door handle
and wheel that I didn’t know had been scraped, and said he’d email me a quote
for the cost of repairs in the morning. I
was only twenty minutes late getting home, and so still having time I took
the dogs to the woods where we had a rather good walk. “er
indoors TM” boiled up dinner, and with it scoffed I wondered
if I should have an early night as I’ve been feeling progressively more and
more grim as the day had gone past. Instead I just
played on-line bubble-pop games. |
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2 September 2022
(Friday) - Wasted Journey (?)
With
the puppies safely on the bed (and Treacle appeased) I made toast and
watched another episode of "Shadow and Bone" which is
getting rather good. This is yet another of those shows which passed me by
when it was first released. I
had a quick look at Facebook and chuckled at a meme I read. Based on the
"Charley Says" cat that was popular
in safety films of the 1970s, "Charley" said that back in
the 1970s we didn't have people going to food banks because we didn't
squander our money on mobile phone contracts, nail bars or designer label
sportswear. Am I being harsh in wondering if "Charley" isn't
entirely wrong? Certainly in my experience those
people that I've seen talking about having to use food banks have been doing
so via the Internet connections of their mobile phones. And
there were quite a few "back to school" photos as well this
morning. I quite like seeing them. This year there didn't seem to be quite so
many people (always those without children) being rude about these
photos, which was probably for the best. Taking
care not to disturb anyone I got ready for work, and rolled my eyes as I
realised it was dustbin day... I realise that the dustmen have a job to do,
but the really do make maximum inconvenience as they do it. Usually they make a point of blockading the pavements with
the recycling bins, but on seeing me walking out of the house, one of the bin
men (with a cheeky smile) literally hurled our bin at me. I managed to
dodge it, but it hit the fence with a crash. I then spent five minutes
waiting for the dustbin lorry to get out of the way before I could set off. As
I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about today being the last day
of the Conservative Party's leadership contest. Several so-called experts
were wheeled on, all of whom agreed that the public are sick of hearing about
it. I must admit that after two months speculation over what certainly seems
to be a foregone conclusion, it has got rather tedious. However
what seemed to go over the heads of those presenting the news was that it was
them themselves who have been bombarding up with this endless drivel. I
got to work and cracked on with the early shift. As I worked
I got a message from “er indoors TM”. What was the orange
thing that Morgan had been chewing? It was the connector that joined the
power cable from the plug to the cable to the pump that powers one of the
water features. The thing is repairable (I hope), but I wish he hadn't
chewed it. It was just as well that I only switch it on when I am there,
isn't it? And
I got a message from the repair people who had a look at the scrape on my car
yesterday. They'd priced up the cost of repairs... over a thousand quid. Not
overly keen on driving round in a scraped car until I get a new one I thought I might try talking to the insurance people.
It took a while to get through. After being told I needed to speak to someone
else and being put back on hold for the third time I gave up. When
the boss wasn't looking I spent a few minutes poring
over the map. After Tuesday's debacle I didn't fancy taking any country lanes
on the trip to Eastbourne. I plotted a route along A-roads and slipped
off at the earliest opportunity… and fell at the first hurdle. The A road was
closed at Wateringbury, and signposts to Eastbourne
just stopped once I’d got into Tunbridge Wells. After
two and a half hours I finally got to Eastbourne Hospital. I went to the ward
to see Dad. He was fast asleep, so I let him sleep. And after ten minutes I
was (rather curtly) told he was being taken for an X-ray and he was
taken off (still n his bed and fast asleep). I tried to talk to the
nurse about why he was going for an X-ray and about one or two other things,
but the nurse clearly didn’t want to talk to me. She didn’t actually say “f… off baldy”
but that was definitely her unspoken implication. So I came home… I got home nearly five hours
after I’d started driving. I’d made a round trip of a hundred miles to watch
Dad sleeping for ten minutes and to be fobbed off. Perhaps the nurse was
having a bad day. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt for now… |
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3 September 2022
(Saturday) - Dog Club, Geo-Meet, Pond Work...
Not
being at work today I stayed in bed until half past seven. That is quite the
lie-in for me. I made toast, and got ready for the
off. With “er indoors TM” off out with her mates at some
rock gig or other (?) me and the dogs had been left “home alone”,
and I had plans… We
wandered up the road to the car and drove off to Whetsted.
As we drove in a novel break with tradition I didn’t
have Radio 4 on. Instead I tuned to Radio Ashford
and listened to Steve. Or that is I listened to Steve in between the music
and the adverts. There was a *lot* more music and adverts on the local
radio than there ever is on Radio 4. Steve was running a contest in which
various records were being played and he was listing various things that
happened. Unfortunately the reception gave out when
I got to Leeds castle so I never did find out what the right year was… I *think*
it was 2008. We
got to where we were going - Whetsted and
Ted’s Field where there was a meet-up of the “Kent Dachshund” Group.
I’ve been keen to get the puppies (and Treacle) meeting other dogs,
and I thought (hoped) this might be a good opportunity. It
was. It
was really good. Everyone was so welcoming, and it
was such fun with dachshunds everywhere. It was fairly
obvious which one was Bailey (as she was the only white one there),
but Morgan just melted into the swarm of dachshunds, and the two of them
charged around with their new friends non-stop. I didn’t count, but there
must have been over twenty dachshunds and daxie-crosses
of all shapes and sizes and colours. Treacle
stayed with me for much of the time; she’s generally terrified of other dogs.
But she was fine all the time the others didn’t get in her face. Sniffing her
bum is fine with her; but not her face (bit like me, really). But she
wandered off with the other dogs from time to time. The
meet was scheduled to run for an hour; and after an hour everyone went their
different ways. It was a dedicated dog-training field and someone else had
booked it for twelve o’clock. We’d each paid two quid per dog for the field
hire. I thought that was rather good value… From
Whetsted we braved the traffic and made our way to
Tunbridge Wells to show our faces at the geo-meet. It was only just down the
road from “dog club” so it would have been rude not to have turned up.
I
only stayed for a few minutes, but it was good to catch up with those people
I knew. The meet was a picnic by the cricket green, and it was hard to tell
who was geo-meet and who was “normal people”. From
the meet we came home. I wanted to get the pond sorted… I turned off the
filters and cleaned them out, disassembled the old cascade (built last
week) and moved it out of the way. I then heaved the new one into place,
then got the filters where they should be and buried the electricals and plumbing, and had a bit of a go at landscaping. Thirty
seconds to type; over two hours to do. And I’m still not sure I like the
finished thing… not that it’s finished. One of the filters has only a
fraction of the flow of the other. I think I might need to rod it out or get
some new tubing. But I decided that could wait till another day. I
did the dogs’ dinner, and then foraged for mine (in the direction of KFC)
then spent the evening ironing two weeks’ worth of shirts. What with one
thing and another I didn’t get round to ironing them last week. Can’t think
why (!) As
I ironed I watched more episodes of “Shadow and
Bone” as the dogs snored. Dog club certainly wore them out. Much like the
afternoon’s pond work wore me out. I
think a restful day might be a plan for tomorrow… |
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4 September 2022
(Sunday) - Badlesmere
I
heaved myself out of bed at eight o’clock this morning… and I took some
heaving. I think I overdid it in the garden yesterday. Talking of which I had
a little check. All looked well with the pond, which was a result. I
made toast and looked at the Internet. It was still there. I sent out a
couple of birthday wishes, and had a look at what
was happening on-line. There wasn’t much happening. Someone had asked (on
one of the TV pages) about why the TV show “Are You Being Served”
was so popular. I made the mistake of pointing out that when it was made
there wasn’t any competition from other channels. BBC2 played highbrow
intellectual rubbish that no one ever watched, and there was a lot of
snobbery about ITV being for the lower orders… BBC1 really did have a
monopoly. Other people tried to make an argument about it… I left them to it. We
got ourselves organised and drove up to Badlesmere
where we met Karl, Tracey and Charlotte and set off for a little wander.
We’ve got a walk which works really well round
there. Mostly footpaths with only a few areas where the dogs have to be on leads, and only one stretch which could be
considered “up hill”. As
we walked we had a look-see at the geocaches in the
area to make sure they were all fine… they were. One or two people seemed to
have had issues with one of the caches
on the way. So we had a look… and couldn’t
understand the problem. I re-read the instructions… You get to the given
location, look to the left and see a gate. You count the wooden bars and
signs on it and do some sums to get the co ordnates
of the final location. What was the issue? I couldn’t see one. I
took some photos as we walked and scoffed, and with walk walked and scoff
scoffed we came home. A quick cuppa, and I woke up on the sofa four hours
later buried under dogs. “er
indoors TM” boiled up cake and custard, and we found ourselves
watching “Train
Truckers”; a strangely engaging show in which a team of truckers
heave trains onto trucks and drive them across the country on the roads. I
would have thought the obvious way to shift a train would have been along
tracks, but what do I know? |
5 September 2022 (Monday) - Limescale round my Ballcock
I had a
rather bad night (again) seeing every hour of it (again). It
was dark when I took the puppies out, but they soon settled with “er
indoors TM” and I made toast. I didn’t
bother turning on the telly; instead I had a look at
the Internet (which was the same as ever). A few people had a birthday
today; I sent my birthday video to those with whom I’ve actually
communicated in the last year. And with nothing else occurring I got
ready for work. There’s no denying that I felt rather rough at six o’clock
this morning. Perhaps I should have phoned in sick, but I got on with my life
and spent much of the day whinging at anyone who would listen. I had quite
the walk to find where I'd left the car. As I walked it was rather obvious we'd had rain overnight. We could do with more of
that. I got to the car (eventually) and took a little detour to cap
some Munzee Points of Interest (as I do) before heading up the
motorway. I say "motorway"; for all that the pundits on the
radio would have us believe that "Operation Brock" has
finished, the M20 is still a dual carriageway (in both directions)
with a fifty miles per hour speed limit, and there are no
plans to change this for a year or so. The most
frustrating part of it all was the signs saying “speed limit in force to protect
workforce” when there was fifteen miles of speed limit and no workforce
whatsoever. As I drove
there was also some zoologist on the radio being interviewed about her
revelation that during lockdown animals in zoos had got "more jiggy"
than usual. Lockdown was apparently quite the instigator of quite un-moral
behaviour in zoo animals. For me the take-home message here was that
whilst some of us were doing our best to keep the country going during the
lockdown, and whilst others had been going stir-crazy, there were those who
had been watching to see how randy things were getting in zoos. And they got
paid for it too... But perhaps
the most important thing mentioned was that our new Prime Minster will be freezing the prices of
leccie and gas... There's no denying power
costs need freezing. In fact it needs halving.
Mind you I can distinctly remember the run-up to the last general election
when the Conservative party were constantly lambasting the Labour party about
there not being a "magic money tree" to fund their policies.
It would seem that the Tories have found one,
wouldn't it? As I worked (whinged
at anyone who would listen) I had a message to contact the garage. Having
been quoted a thousand quid to get the car sorted I decided that I shouldn't
drive round in a scratched-up car when the scratching-up hadn't been my
fault. I'd spent an age fighting with the insurance company's website last
night, and today a garage in Dover contacted me to discuss the repairs. They
will be taking my car away for at least a week at the end of November, and won't be supplying me with a courtesy car. I
phoned the insurance company to demand a courtesy car, and eventually got put
through to the wrong person. She assured me that the right person would phone
me back... but talk is cheap. Certainly cheaper than
fixing a scratched car... With work
worked I came home and took the dogs to the woods. We did something quite
revolutionary: we went round the woods in an anticlockwise direction and
didn’t meet everyone. I’ve had a theory (for some time) that everyone
but us goes round anticlockwise and in doing that this evening we managed to
avoid all the normal people. Result (!) I then got a
mini step ladder and had a look at our water tank. The thing has been
overflowing for a few days. The bit controlled by the ballcock was rather
encrusted with limescale. I’ve never seen such humungous lumps of limescale;
they have obviously been building up for years. Have you ever looked at the
ballcock in your water tank? Have you got as much limescale as I have? I’d
have a look now before you have the problem I’ve got (or one of them!) I snapped off
as much as I dared, but I soon got to the point where I didn’t know whether I
would be snapping off limescale or ballcock, so I’ve sent for the plumber.
Hopefully he will sort out the dripping tap in the bathroom too. “er
indoors TM”
came home, boiled up some scran, then went bowling. The dogs fell asleep on
top of me and I watched the third episode of “House
of the Dragon” which (in true “Game of Thrones” style) has given
up having a plot in favour of tedious seemingly endless battle scenes. I fell
asleep… |
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6 September 2022
(Tuesday) - Eastbourne Again
I
actually slept through till three o'clock this morning, and
judging by what I read on Facebook (as I scoffed brekkie) I would seem
to have missed the thunderstorm. Facebook this morning was either talk of the
thunderstorm or talk of the new Prime Minister. I did chuckle as I read what
certain friends had posted. I have several friends who support various
political parties in the same way that they support their chosen football
team. For some of them it was as though the Conservatives had elected the
baby Jesus, and for others it was as though Genghis Khan had returned. It
never fails to amaze me how so many otherwise intelligent people try to claim
that black is white purely because their chosen favourite political party
claims that is the case. Once
I'd refereed the dogs' squabbles (Treacle had a time out!) and scoffed
toast I set off to work. I set off via fourteen dull points of interest, and
as I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the new Prime Minister
as well. She's supposedly going to sort out the cost
of living crisis starting with the ridiculously high leccie and gas bills. Details of how she was going to do
so were rather vague; there was a strange idea being proposed in which the
bills will be spread out years into the future. Presumably Lacey, “Stormageddon
– Bringer of Destruction TM” and “Darcie Waa Waa TM” will be paying for my leccie bills long after they have buried me. There
was then an interview with the deputy leader of the Labour party Angela
Rayner. Call me a snob if you will, but when she speaks
she sounds terrible. You'd think that someone who has chosen to be a public
figure would have sorted her voice out, wouldn't you? I popped into
Sainsburys on my way to work, and the cleaners shrieking abuse at each
other were better spoken than Ms Rayner. On
the way back to my car I capped a qrewzee and got a
diamond qrate. That was a result. Or, it was a result for those who scan bar codes stuck to
lamp posts. As I was driving past the filling station, I got petrol, and went
in to work. Work
was much the same as ever. There was cake, or to be precise, baklava. Have
you ever had baklava? It's a bit like an undercooked sponge which has been
covered in glue. But call it what you will, cake is cake. I
spent much of the day planning the drive to Eastbourne. There was apparently
a road closure at Cross in Hand and a ninety-eight per cent chance of
thunderstorm when I was due to be arriving at my destination. And then
the hospital phoned me… so I left work earlier than planned and set off to
Eastbourne. This
was my fifth trip to Eastbourne in less than two weeks, and it seems to me
that no matter what way I go, it isn't a good drive, but I think I might have
found the best way to go. I
got to the hospital and had a little chat with the doctor looking after Dad.
He’s not responding to treatments, and the treatments are very uncomfortable
for him. We’ve decided the priority is to make him as comfortable as possible
as there’s not much else we can do. I
then spent a little while with him as he slept… I told him about the
limescale and the scratches on my car and the pond fun… I don’t think
he heard a word. |
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7 September 2022
(Wednesday) - My Dad Died
The
day started with absolute mayhem. Being on a late start and no need to be up
at silly o’clock I came down to find the babies flying round the house being
chased by Treacle who was partly enjoying a game of chase and partly trying
to take the toys from the puppies. They had her favourite toy; her favourite
toy being whichever one that another dog has got. As
I scoffed my toast I saw I had an email. On 18 June
2018 I used my “Mammals” app to photograph a mouse. The “Mammals” app
was something I heard about on the radio years ago. The UK Mammal Society
openly admitted that they didn’t really know which mammals lived where, so
they were asking the public to download the app and photograph various
mammals. These would be uploaded to the UK Mammal Society who would use the
photo’s GPS tagging to figure out what mammals lived where in the UK. On June
18 2018 I photographed one or two mammals for them,
including (as well as that mouse) some deer. I eventually got a very
rude message from them saying that there were no deer in the area that I’d
seen them in and that they were deleting that record. To my mind that rather
defeated the entire object of the exercise, but what do I know? But
this morning (four years later) they told me I’d correctly identified
a mouse. I’ve
given up with that app… I
got the dogs organised; Bailey is getting much better in having her collar
put on (I no longer have to chase her round the
house to catch her). We drove down to Orlestone
and wandered round the woods. The walk went well; we met a couple of dogs
that we know, and the puppies ran to make nuisances of themselves with a dog
we didn’t know but came back when I whistled. We
came home and I messaged here and there to get out of Friday’s night shift,
and I had a little look at my accounts. Not too bad I suppose… I
phoned the hospital to see how Dad was doing. The doctor told me he was
comfortable, all the tubes had been taken out and he had been started on
morphine as part of the “end of life” protocol. With
the dogs settled I set off to work... slowly. Having had a look at the
accounts I decided I had enough money to squander on the ongoing pond
refurbishment project so I went to Sheerness (Whelans) where I bought a little bridge ornament
thingy. And minutes after I bought it so the heavens
opened. I
went to work. Just as the day staff were about to go home the hospital phoned
and said I should come as soon as possible as Dad’s breathing had changed (?)
I left work and hurried off to Eastbourne. As I drove
I had another phone call. Dad
died just before six o’clock… |
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8 September 2022
(Thursday) - Sorting Things Out
I
woke this morning to the realisation that I am now an orphan. But there was
no point in sulking; life goes on. Despite the drizzle I hoiked
the puppies into the garden to do their business. Morgan particularly wasn’t
keen. Eventually he tiddled, but I should have persevered with him as five
minutes later I found a fresh turd under the table.
To be fair to him I’d rather not “go” in the rain. I
made toast, and had a look at the Internet. There
was an impressive squabble on one of the Facebook “Blakes Seven” pages
in which someone or other had written an in-depth critique of some obscure
episode (from forty years ago) and had taken offence at the postings
of others who he had offended. There are quite a few people making these
in-depth critiques of obscure TV shows on social media at
the moment. They remind me of my old English teacher who used to take
a half-way decent novel and kill it stone-dead with over-analysis. We
went to the woods and got incredibly wet. We came home and I gave the dogs a
hot shower before driving down to Hastings. I met up with my brother and we (eventually)
found where Dad had left his will… it wasn’t where he told us it was… But
having the confirmation that we were the executors was all that we needed to
know. So knowing that we popped to the funeral
directors and got the wheels in motion. As we drove to the funeral directors we saw that the East Hastings Angling Society
was flying their flag at half- mast in his honour, We
then spent the afternoon on something of a pub crawl in his honour… We
found some good pubs and some bad ones.. If you
haven’t got a TripAdvisor Account, please set one up and be very rude about
this place. Oh…
and whilst I was drinking myself silly the Queen died… I have it on reliable
authority that Dad won’t have a funeral before the middle of October. I bet
Her Majesty will be buried within a fortnight… |
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9 September 2022
(Friday) - I'm Worn Out...
I
had something of a restless night, and was wide awake
far too early. I had something of a headache too… can’t think why (!) As
everyone else snored I scoffed toast and had a look at the Internet. It was
still there. Quite a few people were saying how sad they were that the Queen
had died. I suppose it is the end of an era, really. She had a thankless
task. It will be interesting to see how our new king pans out. A few years ago I can remember thinking that he would be terrible at
the job but now I’m not sure. I
got the distinct impression that the succession of a new monarch was a
godsend for our new Prime Minister whose capping of the energy
bills seems to have passed off pretty much unnoticed. I’ve done a few
sums based on the energy cap and it looks like I will only be paying ten quid
a month more than I am paying now. Mind you that is still a hundred quid a
month more than I was paying this time last year. With
some things (loads of things) to do in Hastings (not least of which
being fetch the car) I wandered up the road to the railway station to get
the train… the train which had been cancelled. The train had been cancelled
due to staff shortages, but they were able to put on a bus which was to leave
at the same time. How odd… a railway has no spare train staff but has a bus
and driver. How does that work? I
got on the bus and amused myself watching the argument. Some chap wanted to take
his bike on the bus. He always took his bike on the train and that was never
an issue. But the bus driver wasn’t having it. The supervisor was called over
and during the course of this part of the argument
the chap with the bike started throwing it around in temper. Leaving
the cyclist behind we were only ten minutes late leaving. There were seven
passengers on a double decker bus. We drove to Ham Street station where one
more got on. We stopped at Appledore station for ten minutes despite no one
getting on or off. It all happened at Rye where three passengers got off, and
another one (in a very timid voice) asked if it was the Hastings bus. The
bus eventually drove within a hundred yard of Dad’s house, and the driver let
me out there. Together
with my brother I had a productive morning. We got all of Dad’s clothes out
of cupboards and bagged them up for the clothes bank (like he wanted),
and we had a little look-see in the attic, and was pleased to find hardly
anything at all up there. We
got done what we had planned for today, locked the house, and set off home. Getting
home rather earlier than expected I set the washing machine going and took
the dogs to the woods. We went on our usual circuit and didn’t see anyone
else at all, which made for a relatively easy walk. Mind you, Morgan wandered
off a couple of times. He never goes *too* far, and I can usually hear
the jingle of the tags on his collar and the sound of him crashing through
the undergrowth. But I’d rather he didn’t wander off. It’s not too bad when
Treacle or Bailey go off; the girls (usually)
respond to the whistle. And
with walk walked I did what I do on most days off; I got out the ironing
board and sorted laundry. As I ironed I watched “Knuckle”; a
documentary about Irish travellers and the fist fights they had (for no
other reason than that they could). I quite liked it. “er
indoors TM” boiled up a rather good bit of dinner, and as we scoffed
it I thought back over the last two weeks. Two weeks
ago my brother found Dad collapsed. Twelve days
later he was dead. I had loads of hundred-mile drives, I managed to have my
car pranged for me. It’s
all been rather full-on. I could really do with a rest… |
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10 September 2022 (Saturday)
- Visiting Irene
Having
had something of a lie-in the puppies weren’t tiddled until an hour later
than usual this morning. But I had to wait a good ten minutes (if not
longer) before Morgan finally “produced”. Whilst we don’t have *that*
many accidents these days, they still happen and I’d
like to avoid them as far as possible. The puppies go outside and when they
do what is expected of them they get a fuss and then
can come back inside… Am I doing this wrong? I
made toast and had a look at the Internet… it was much the same as ever. It
has only been two days since the Queen died and still people were finding
things to argue about. Did the new King ban Meghan Markle from the dying
Queen’s bedside? Would the late Princess Diana have made a better Queen
Consort than Camilla… Did anyone really have any idea, or were they all just
looking for an argument? We
settled the dogs and set off to Beckenham. It is far too long since we caught
up with Irene, and we had a really good day today
putting the world to rights and playing with her wonderful Maine Coon cat.
Have you ever met a Maine Coon? Lovely creatures… If I had a cat it would be one of those. Irene gave us a wonderful
dinner too… Whilst
we were there we went into the attic. When Terry passed on last year he told me he wanted me to have his library of
science-fiction. Being something of a sci-fi fan I was rather flattered by
this, and today I made off with it. At first glance it would seem I’ve
acquired quite a treasure trove. The
day went so fast, but having pups at home we had to
come home far earlier than I would have liked. It had been so good to catch
up. Really mustn’t leave it so long next time. And next time I will leave a
dog-sitter with the hounds. After
the stresses of the last couple of weeks, a day with an old friend was just
what I needed today… |
|
11 September 2022
(Sunday) - Tribal Gathering
I slept well. With puppies tiddled I set the
washing machine going, made toast and had a look at the Internet. Sadly the Queen’s death has been a godsend to those
keyboard warriors who love to argue. Rugby playing friends were singing their
own praises after some anti-Royalist chanting at a football match yesterday.
Republican websites were demanding the return of gems in the crown jewels to
the countries from which they were mined (hundreds of years ago). I turned the lap-top off,
and had a little look-see through the boxes of books I brought home
from Irene’s yesterday. There were some really good
books in there. As I looked through I found several
favourite books of mine, several I can remember reading years ago (and am
looking forward to reading again) and many I had intended to read… Many
years ago there was a second-hand paperback book
shop in Hastings. You could buy books cheaply and once you’d read them trade
them in (at half the price you’d paid) against the price of another
book. There were *loads* of books in that shop that I intended to
read… but they closed down. Now’s my chance. I hung out the second load of washing then
had a little look at the pond. The new all-singing all-dancing filtration
system wasn’t working as it might; one of the filters was clearly having far
more output that the other. I took it all apart, rodded the hoses through,
cleaned out the filters… Eventually I found what I thought the problem was.
The old filter box that died a few months ago had cylindrical wotsits inside. The new boxes both have spherical ones.
And being spherical they are the right shape to bung up the water outputs.
You’d think the manufacturer would have spotted that one, wouldn’t you? When
I get a minute I need to buy loads of the old-style
cylindrical wotsits. I then did a little carpentry and got the
waterproof switchbox off of the floor and onto the
fence. And then I spent a few minutes putting my new
bridge-thingy into place and arranging the shingle around it. I‘m quite
pleased with how it looks. By then I was rather worn out. I spent a few
moments trimming back that which was flowing over the hedge, and then the
family gathered (or our tribe, anyway). The plan for today had been
for us all to drive down to Eastbourne to see Dad as we had thought he would
have lasted longer than he did, But with an Eastbourne trip not happening we
just had a family lunch in the garden. “Daddy’s Little Angel TM”
made baguette for everyone and brought along crisps and cakes, and Auntie
Cheryl spent a few minutes trying not to make Darcie Waa Waa
cry. I managed to make her cry right away… it would seem the trick to not
making her cry is to not look at her; she doesn’t seem to like that. It was a really good
family afternoon; it was only a shame that Bailey had to sick
up a semi-digested turd. I then spent seemingly hours ironing… what
with one thing and another recently I’ve not had much chance to see to that
nonsense… |
|
12 September 2022
(Monday) - At The Registry Office
As
I scoffed toast I saw that two of my ex-trainees had
married (each other). Back in the day our lives were incredibly
intertwined… and now I find they got married through what I read on Facebook.
But such is life; we all move on. This
morning’s squabble on Facebook was about how much the Queen’s funeral will
cost the tax-payer… with most of those opposed to
spending public money not being those who’ve ever paid much tax. I
wandered up the road to find my car, and once I’d found it
I headed south-wards. As I drove there were only two subjects on the radio;
the service of remembrance for the Queen (which was taking place somewhere
in Scotland) and occasional mentions of the Ukrainian resurgence in their
ongoing war against the invading Russians. I’ve always considered myself
something of a royalist, but I must admit I’m getting sick of hearing about
the dead Queen and the new King. There must be more in the news than that? I
got to Hastings and found the Priory Meadow car park; when I’d last visited
the place it had been a cricket pitch. With a little time on my hands I Munzee-ed for half an hour, then went to the
registry office to get Dad’s death registered… What
a ridiculous formality. The
hospital had emailed all the details of his death to the registry office. All
I had to do was declare that I was his son and say that everything the
hospital had said was spelt correctly. Which (of course) it was. I
then paid them good money for copies of the death certificate. Have
you ever been to the register office in Hastings? Someone there is on a nice
little earner. As well as charging you to spell-check the hospital, if you
are registering the birth of a child they will sell
you a nice frame for the birth certificate. Or they will sell you it in
scroll form. Getting married? They will sell you “I Do” umbrellas and
nice ornate fountain pens to sign the register. They offered me one of those
pens to sign the death certificate… I didn’t rise to it. I
then drove to work, taking a somewhat circuitous route as someone had been
playing silly beggars by moving the “Road Closed” signs about. Mind
you I think I probably only went ten miles further than I needed to. As
I got to work my phone beeped. Regular readers of this drivel may recall that
on Thursday I alluded to a bad experience my brother and I had had in a pub.
At the time I went into a little more detail about the episode on my Facebook
account, and the owner of said pub found my comment and tried (four days
too late) to explain why she’d taken umbrage and announced that my giving
a factual account of the episode on TripAdvisor was “unkind”. Basically last Thursday my
brother and I walked into an empty (that’s not “not many customers”, that’s
“empty”) pub, bought fifteen quid’s worth of drinks, and once our money
was safely in their till, the landlady told us we weren’t welcome. Ironically
it turns out that the woman wasn’t happy that we had been swearing at the
bar… odd as we were sitting down when she got nasty. And doubly odd as (over
many years) the place has got itself a reputation as one of the roughest
pubs in the area. As
I replied to her this evening, if she could have said what her problem was at
the time I wouldn’t have publicly slated them. I
suspect I will regret replying to her comment though… But
(if nothing else) this shows the power of TripAdvisor… |
|
13 September 2022
(Tuesday) - Eyestrain
As I scoffed toast I
watched an
episode of “Lunatics”; a rather odd Australian Netflix
mockumentary, then sparked up my lap-top. I sent out a few birthday wishes, and seeing there was an episode of dog-club
scheduled for this weekend I signed up for it. We can do dog-club before “Stormageddon
– Bringer of Destruction TM” comes to visit. I am reliably
informed he wants to see the puppies… and Treacle… Oh – and Nanny. When
prompted about seeing Granddad he did say “yeah” but I suspect it was
rather half-heartedly. And following the little spat of last
Thursday I received an apology from the pub that had been so offensive. It
would seem I caught them on a bad day. I’ve given them the benefit of the
doubt. Having Munzee-ed from the sofa I walked to my
car capping lifebelts and feathers (as one does), and then drove to
work listening to the pundits on the radio interviewing James Reed (of the recruitment company). He
made some interesting points. With
UK unemployment at an all-time low and wage rises in the private sector
currently being three times that of the public sector, not only are
hospitals, schools and local government offices struggling to recruit, they
are actively losing staff to the private sector. Like we didn't see that one coming? There was quite a bit of talk on the radio
about the ongoing conflict in the Ukraine; the Ukrainian President was
telling his Western allies (sponsors?) that they weren't supplying
weapons quickly
enough for his liking. I can understand the chap's frustration, but
from what I hear of him on the radio, gratitude doesn't seem to be his strong
suit. From what I hear he seriously does expect others to fund his war. In a novel change to the last few days there
wasn't endless talk of the death of the Queen but Thought For The Day was
odd... the woman talking was going on about some conversation she'd had with
a stranger last week about how sad the Queen's passing had been. She went on
to liken Her Late Majesty to a football team in bringing everyone together. Obviously this woman has never seen football thugs having
a fight? I got to work and before I started
I had a rather productive ten minutes as I made a few phone calls. I've got
an appointment with the solicitor for me and my brother next Tuesday. I've
got a letter from the pension people coming in the post. I now know how to
see about closing Dad's bank account. I sorted air-con re-gassing for my car.
And I even confirmed a courtesy car for when my car gets fixed at the end of
November. Flushed with success I then did some work. At tea break I went old-skool.
Rather than reading my Kindle app I read a book. A proper paper book with
pages and everything like I used to back in the day. Terry has left me quite
a few to read. But… It rather made my eyes ache. You can't change
the font size on a real book. If there are any words you don't understand,
taping them achieves nothing; you have to physically
go get a dictionary yourself. And when you finish the book
you have to actually get off your bum and go to get another one. Whilst I’m
sure I will get the hang of it, I can't help but
wonder how I ever coped before my Kindle app. Meanwhile in another plane of reality
it is twenty-three years since the Moon went… |
|
14 September 2022 (Wednesday) - Historic Occasions
With a good friend due for surgery in Margate at seven o'clock, and “er
indoors TM” volunteering to do the family brekkie and school
run for her, it was “er indoors TM” and not me up at silly
o'clock this morning. Mind you I was still up before six o'clock; I thought I
might offer her my sage advice in dealing with the puppies. They tend to get
a tad excitable first thing in the morning. The trick is to go into the
garden with them and stand and wait for them to do their "things";
even if you have to wait quite some time. “er
indoors TM” had clearly skimped on the waiting, and I found a turd under the living room table. I would ask "have I ever mentioned that I never wanted dogs"
but getting the puppies was my idea. “er indoors TM” set off to go do her errands. The puppies stood
at the door cried pathetically for ten minutes, then jumped on the sofa and
had a scrap. Treacle didn't seem very bothered about any of this; it was
probably too early for her. She sat with me as I scoffed my toast and watched
another episode of "Lunatics". I then settled all the dogs (who
were by then all fast asleep) and set off through the rain to work. Interestingly two separate weather forecasts commented on the dry
morning (!) Again the talk on the radio was about the Queen's
death and her funeral which is being arranged for next Monday. There were
interviews with people who'd been out in the gathered crowds for their second
night. Police chiefs were advising that over the next few days the waiting
time to queue up to see the Queen's coffin would be about thirty hours (!)
Next Monday (the day of the funeral) is to be a Bank Holiday
and there was a lot of talk about the mayhem this has caused. The more stupid
element (who clearly hadn't thought anything through) are demanding
that the universe should close that day. Those who obviously can't shut up
shop (hospitals, emergency services, me...) are having no end of
issues with child care... The obvious solution would have been to have had the funeral on the
Sunday, wouldn't it? However Royal
protocol dictates that it is held ten days after the monarch’s death...
Time to change the protocol? I found myself getting a tad fed up with all the talk of the Queen's
funeral on the radio and at work... but then I realised that this is a
historic occasion. In years to come I will tell Darcie Waa Waa "I was there." (The other day
“Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM” asked "What's the
Queen" so I don't think he's as Royalist as he might be, and Lacey is
old enough to see it all for herself). I've actually lived through quite a few historic
occasions, you know. (In no particular order)
the falling of the Berlin Wall, the death of Princess Diana, the digging of
the Channel Tunnel, the Folkestone Earthquake (it really happened!),
the Olympic Flame coming up my road, Brexit, the Moon Landings… to name but a
few. I think it fair to say that, at the time, all were rather tedious. Mind you, Nostradamus predicted the lot, you know. And apparently he's
predicted that King Charles won't last long, and will be succeeded by
Prince Harry. Bearing in mind Harry is only fifth
in line to the throne, it would be interesting to know exactly what sort of
disaster Nostradamus expects will wipe out Prince William and his entire
tribe. Not that I put any faith on Nostradamus or any other fortune teller.
You never see a rich one, do you? If anyone would know on which horse to bet,
eh? Mind you an aunt once told me: "When
granddad's piles give him gyp Then the
weather will be shit" I must admit that as prophecies go, over the years this one has been
amazingly accurate (with a succession of granddads culminating in me). |
15 September 2022 (Thursday) - Rostered
Day Off
The car was
booked for a service this morning so I took the dogs
with me, left the car with the nice lady at the garage and we walked home.
Walking home is probably something that needs some work. Treacle stops and
sits at the kerbs, but getting the babies to do it
is still very much a work in progress. Treacle walks at heel, and Bailey
sort-of does so, but Morgan pulled pretty much all the way home. I did dog
breakfast then did some more of the paperwork following Dad’s death… Once the
lap-top finally started working. There is a delay of up to fifteen minutes
between pressing the “switch on” and having a working lap-top. What is it doing in that time? I then
dozed in front of the telly under a pile of dogs until the garage phoned to
say the car was ready. We walked over to get it. Again
Treacle walked perfectly, Bailey had a half-way decent stab at it, and Morgan
was a bit of a disaster. “er indoors
TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner, and with it
scoffed I was dozing on the sofa with Morgan. It as one of those moments when God was in his heaven and all was well with the world… And then he
peed all over me. |
|
16 September 2022
(Friday) - So Tired...
I
woke feeling full of beans and raring to go... at three o'clock. I lay wide
awake for a couple of hours then got up, tiddled the puppies (in the
garden and not on the sofa this time) and made sarnies for later and
toast for brekkie. As I scoffed it I started a new
series on Netflix. "Better Than Us"
is a Netflix-made show (translated from the original Russian!) about a
killer robot going on the rampage having had someone trying to "do
the dirty deed" at, on or with it. It's
an old story in sci-fi, but so far the show is
entertaining enough. Trying
not to wake anyone I set off for work. As I drove the pundits on the radio
were talking about the ongoing situation in Ukraine. It
would seem that the spiralling inflation that is putting my bills up
is putting up bills all over Europe. The consensus of
opinion is that (omitting tediously long explanation) it is in
no small part due to the Russian reaction to the Western world's applying
economic sanctions to them (over their involvement in the Ukrainian war).
There's upcoming elections in Italy, and dropping sanctions against Russia
and having nothing to do with the Ukrainians is seeming to be something of a
vote-winner. Is
this a sensible policy, or a case of "sod you, I'm all right"
? I don't really know. And
there was talk about the queue to see the Queen's coffin which (according
to the morning's news) grew by half a mile between the time I left
home and the time I got to work... where I realised that I'd left my sarnies
at home. I
went to the works branch of M&S and got some lunch there. They don't give
the stuff away. Perhaps if the UK weren't overtly financing the Ukrainians in
their fight against the Russians my dinner might have been cheaper? Work
was work, and with done I took the hounds to the woods for a walk. We went
round our usual route without meeting anyone and came home where er
indoors TM” boiled up a good bit of dinner. All
went swimmingly until we put “Dogs Behaving Very
Badly” on the telly when Bailey went absolutely
mental… That
three o’clock start is taking its toll… |
|
17 September 2022
(Saturday) - Dog Club, Family Afternoon
I
woke up to an empty house. I couldn’t find “er indoors TM”
or the dogs anywhere. I checked the garden and the attic room (twice),
but they couldn’t have gone far as the leads were all still where they were
supposed to be. Eventually
I found them all fast asleep on the sofa under a pile of blankets. Apparently Treacle had been sick and they had all camped
out in the sofa in sympathy for no adequately explored reason. I
made toast and had a look at the Internet. A local pub was advertising that
they were taking bookings for Christmas Day dinner for ninety-five quid per
person. Is that good or bad? I don’t know but I suspect we could feed the
entire tribe for that and get change out of it too. We
got the dogs organised and set off. With Steve not being on the radio we
turned the radio off, and drove out to Paddock Wood
and Dog Club. A couple of weeks ago I took the dogs to a meet-up of the Kent
Dachshund group. We had a really good time (well, Treacle didn’t) and
we went back today. There
weren’t as many people and/or dogs along today, but
it was a bit colder. And Treacle *really* didn’t enjoy herself today.
She was very snappy with the other dogs; quite possibly being rather possessive
over “er indoors TM”. It was a shame that both Bailey and
Morgan had to roll in something disgusting within minutes of arriving, but
they seemed to make the most of it. I
took a few photos of Dog Club. We will certainly go again,
but may well leave Treacle with someone as she’s not keen on it. We
came home, and were soon joined by “Daddy’s
Little Angel TM”, “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”
and “Darcie Waa Waa TM”.
The most recent fruit of my loin wanted KFC, and with KFC coffed we went
shopping. First
of all to B&Q to get a new saddle for my little
girl’s chodbin. Apparently “Stormageddon –
Bringer of Destruction TM” had been treating their toilet seat
rather too vigorously (there was talk of riding it side-saddle) and it
hadn’t survived the experience. Have
you seen the price of toilet seats? They don’t give the things away, you
know. After a lot of agonising over colour and design she eventually went for
something with goldfish painted on it. Personally I
would have gone for the cheapest one, but what do I know? From
B&Q we went to Bybrook Barn Garden Centre which
(so I am told) has been called “Longacres
Garden Centre” for some years. We
went straight to their café and had coffee (or tea or J2O) and cake,
and once I’d got a few rocks we had a look at the tropical fish. When he’s
not destroying toilet seats “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”
is learning how to look after a fish tank. We (he) got some Neons and Kuhli loaches, and (as
he said) he won the fish lottery on the Zebra Danios when the lady in the
shop gave him six rather than the five he’d asked
for. As
we drove home “Daddy’s Little Angel TM” taught us all the “Darcie
Shut Your Face” song, which I thought was a tad mean as songs go. Poor
little “Darcie Waa Waa TM” had
been fast asleep all afternoon. We
got to Folkestone and the abode of the Folkestone branch of our tribe. Pogo
got rather over-excited to see us all, and after a quick cuppa I fell asleep. We
came home and had a quiet evening in front of the telly. I feel worn out… |
|
18 September 2022
(Sunday) - Early Shift
About
half an hour before the alarm would have gone off Treacle woke me with her
crying. I asked if she wanted the toilet, and she flew downstairs like a
bullet from a gun. Together with the puppies we went into the garden where
Treacle released a rather impressive (if you are impressed by such things)
bout of dire rear. Good girl for taking it outside. With
dogs settled I made brekkie and watched another episode of “Better Than Us”,
then tuned in to the live feed (on the BBC Parliament Channel) of all
the people filing past the Queen’s coffin. For all the talk that you could
carry nothing in, quite a few were carrying handbags, back packs
and all sorts of rubbish. And few had dressed for the occasion. Most really
did look as though they had dressed to go clean out the shed. You would have
thought they’d have tidied themselves up a bit for such an occasion… wouldn’t
you? I
sparked up the lap-top and my piss boiled when I
read a posting on the Kent Dachshund group. There was a picture of one of the
dogs from yesterday’s meet who was supposedly unhappy after “the pug had
had a go at him” at yesterday’s meet-up. There was only one remotely pug-ish dog there, and for all that Treacle had snapped at a
couple of other dogs, she hadn’t nipped or made contact in any way with any
other dog, and had only ever reacted when the other
dogs made a point of pushing right into her face. There was another dog
mentioned by name who had supposedly had also “had a go”, but the only
“goes” I saw were the usual petty squabbles of dogs that are over as
quickly as they start. I had thought that everyone at yesterday’s meet knew
what dogs are like; if nothing else I now know one dog (and owner) to
avoid. I thought about posting up a comment to correct the accusation,
but thought better of it. It would achieve nothing but to fan a
squabble which would otherwise be forgotten in minutes. And
I had a little sulk when I saw that I’d missed the first of the year’s
bonfire parades last night. Taking
care to let sleeping dogs lie I got ready for work, and seeing it was light
outside and that certain dogs (Bailey) were sleeping, I zoomed round
the garden with a bowl and trowel gathering dog dung before certain dogs (Bailey)
went out for an early breakfast (dogs are foul creatures). As
I drove to work there was an article on the radio about coral reefs. This
sort of thing makes for good viewing on the telly, but rather dull listening
on the radio, so I turned on my music and sang along to "Ivor Biggun" as I drove to work. I
stopped off to get petrol on the way, and made the
mistake of asking if they would be open tomorrow morning (as I might need
a sandwich for work). The woman on the till actually
did look me up and down, then peering down her nose at me (quite
literally) she told me (in a very patronising tone of voice) that
absolutely no one at all is working tomorrow because it is the Queen’s
funeral. One
lives and learns. I thought it best not to suggest that she might be
mistaken. I
went in to work and got on with that which I could not avoid, grumbling that
I would rather not have been working. Half-way through the afternoon my phone
beeped; my colleague who worked the morning with me had gone down the pub and
had met another colleague. The two of them said they were having a beer for
me… I
came home, and had a little pootle in the garden, and then Brian and CA
called in for a cuppa. They only stayed for an hour, but the time flew by. It
was so good to catch up; we can’t have seen each other for over five years.
Really mustn’t leave it so long again. “er
indoors TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner which we washed down
with an incredibly good bottle of wine (Aldi - £3.50!). Described as “fruity
and elegant” it was certainly one of the better wines I’ve ever had. As
we scoffed and drank we watched last week’s episode
of “Bake Off”. The
bits of today when I wasn’t working weren’t bad at all… a shame I’ve got to
work tomorrow… |
|
19 September 2022
(Monday) - The Queen's Funeral
I
felt like death warmed up when I woke this morning. Had I not been told how
short-handed we were going to be at work today I would have phoned in sick. I
made some toast and watched an episode of "Better Than Us"
on Netflix, then watched "the queue". People had been
queuing overnight to pay their respects to Her Majesty, and the queue was
coming to an end this morning. I
didn't go up there... it wasn't really practical. However had I known that people were allowed to carry
luggage in (which had been expressly forbidden according to the radio last
week) then I might just have had a look-see. People were even carrying
dogs through this morning... Now
that it is all over I feel I missed out. Still
feeling grim I set off to work. The roads were quiet, but not as quiet as
they might have been. There were still loads of lorries going to and fro. Despite the radio being nothing but talk about
today's Royal funeral I listened to it out of a sense of being part of
history... Sadly there was absolutely nothing to be said that hadn't been
repeated ad-nauseum over the last week or so, and the morning's presenter was
doing nothing but repeat himself which rather detracted from the occasion. Mind
you I did chuckle when there was talk of a leaked
Foreign Office document advising on how to deal with the foreign
dignitaries attending the funeral. The official advice was: "Keep apart
leaders who hate one another, watch what you feed them and make sure that
President Macron is near the front to avoid a hissy fit". I'm
sure the French are going to love that one... I
got to work and found the chap on the night shift had done most (pretty
much all) of the setting-up tasks that I would have done this morning.
And within a very short time several colleagues who weren't supposed to be
working turned up. With nothing to do at home they thought they'd come in to
work and take a day off another time when it suited them better. I'd
only come in today because everyone else had said they wanted the day off...
Having spent quite a bit of time watching the Laying in State I would have
liked to have watched the funeral, but by then I was already at work and it was far too late to be changing plans. So I just spent much of the day constantly grumbling about
what a waste of my time today had been. As
I was about to come home “er indoors TM” sent a message; she
was taking the dogs out, and one of the pond's filter boxes was leaking. When
I got home I had a look at the filter. Having spent
three hundred quid on the pond's new filter system, it simply isn't working.
A few weeks ago I bought two smaller filters and
spread the water between them. The water isn’t spreading evenly. I *think*
each filter needs its own pump. I shall have a look in the pond shop
tomorrow… With
“er indoors TM” and the dogs out I had a little tidy-up and
loaded a carful of rubbish for a tip run in the morning. As I pootled “er
indoors TM” sent another message. Bailey had run off, and
Treacle had eaten a dead mouse. Amazingly Morgan wasn’t guilty of any crimes. With
mouse eaten and Bailey recovered “er indoors TM” and the
hounds came home. We had a rather good bit of dinner watching a film. I can
remember going to the cinema to watch “Blackball”… nearly
twenty years ago. Oh
– and it was International
Talk Like A Pirate Day today. That’s something that died a death, isn’t
it? Mind you it would have had some serious competition today. And
I still feel rough… |
|
20 September 2022
(Tuesday) - Rostered Day Off (!)
As
I scoffed toast I saw that three Facebook friends
had a birthday today. As only one has made any effort to stay in touch over
the last ten years I only sent out one birthday video. I also saw that pretty
much all of the Royal funeral talk had gone from the
Internet. I
posted on to one of the local Facebook groups asking if anyone could
recommend a plumber to do a couple of small jobs round the house. I’d posted
the same question on another Facebook group over the weekend and the post had
been deleted. I got told that the group I’d posted on wasn’t for that sort of
thing. I’d love to know what sort of thing that group was for as it seems to
be rather moribund. I
then got on with the business of the day… When
I drive to work I drive past the tip. Usually I pass it about five minutes after leaving home.
It took me half an hour to get there this morning. I was the only customer
there (if customer is the right word), and with nothing else to do the
tip operative watched me “like a pork” (as “My Boy TM”
used to say), peering into my car to see what I was getting rid of, and
following me to check everything went in the right skip From
the tip I went to the pond shop at Rolvenden.
Yesterday I mentioned the latest problem with the pond and my idea to fix it.
I got new pumps and connectors to extend the existing hoses. That only cost
two hundred and fifty quid… From
there I went to Dad’s house. It seemed rather odd letting myself in. I picked
up a suit for him to wear; he needs to look smart as the funeral directors
can arrange for people to see the body before the funeral. I got the suit
that I got married in. A few years ago I realised I
was far too big for that suit, and I swapped it with Dad for one of his suits
that he was too small to wear any more. I
then went to my brother’s and together we went to the solicitor to check that
everything we are doing with his estate is legal. Fortunately
it is… mostly. We need to formally apply for “probate”. Probate is the
legal right to deal with someone's property, money
and possessions when they die. Getting probate will cost money. Personally I think it is a total rip-off. My Dad (and
Mum too) spent good money paying for a will saying what they want to
happen with their property, money and possessions.
And now we’ve got to spend more money getting probate as well. What a con. By
then it was lunch time so we went for McLunch. The place was absolutely heaving with children
who probably should have been at school. The chap behind the counter said
that they’d never been so busy and blamed their
having been closed for half a day yesterday. From
McLunch we went to the funeral director’s
and made a start on planning the funeral. I say “made a start”; Dad
had already paid for it and left instructions for much of it. So what could have taken hours was all done in half an
hour. I
came home, and took the dogs to the walk for what
must have been Morgan’s worst-behaved walk ever. We got to the woods where I
opened the boot, and he jumped quicker than I could catch him. It was ten
minutes before he came close enough for me to get the lead off
of him. He
vanished (with Bailey as partner-in-crime) in the deepest part of the
wood for ten minutes. As
we came round the loop at the top of the wood he vanished,
and was captured (on the road!) by a fellow dog-walker on her
way home, I
shall plan a route round the woods that doesn’t go anywhere near that road… “er
indoors TM” boiled up a decent bit of scran which we scoffed whilst
watching “Derry Girls”, and I then spent a very frustrating half hour
on the parcelforce website. Whilst I was going here
and there “er indoors TM” heard the dogs barking at the
door and had found a “we tried to deliver your parcel” note. As is
always the case, “we tried to deliver your parcel” meant that the
delivery chap had come to the door and put a note through the door. I’ve
asked for the parcel to be redelivered on Thursday. If we get another note
the parcel can go back to the sender and I will make a special journey to a
shop to buy the thing directly. I’m fast going off of
the idea of on-line shopping; it only works *if* the delivery people
actually make an effort to deliver what you are buying. |
|
21 September 2022
(Wednesday) - Late Shift
I had something of a lie-in this morning
being woken by “er indoors TM”’s alarm at seven o’clock. I made
toast and had a look at the Internet. Five friends had birthday today, and
all five got sent the birthday video. I then took the dogs out in the car. As we
drove to Orlestone the pundits on the radio were
interviewing some Russian official or other who was screaming and ranting.
Apparently President Putin has threatened
to use nukes in his ongoing Ukrainian war. This morning it wasn’t clear
whether he was going to drop the nukes on Ukraine or those supporting Ukraine
(i.e. London). I’ve said before that the whole Ukrainian war
was akin to how I (and others) used to egg on the weediest kid in the
class to have a fight with the school bully by offering to hold their coat;
bullies are far easier hit by someone else. This whole Ukrainian thing is getting out of
hand. It was interesting to listen to the chap being interviewed; what he was
saying (ranting) was utterly at odds with the news we hear in the UK.
I expect there is a little bit of propaganda and bias on both sides. I wonder
what the truth of the matter is? We got to the woods
and I set off on our walk with something of a sense of dread. Morgan had been
terrible yesterday. He ran off chasing the voices in his head several times; finally being captured on the road. I caught him before he could spring from the
car this morning, and he stayed on the lead until we were safely away from
the car park. We took a rather different route round the woods today
exploring new areas and making a point of not going anywhere near the roads.
Perhaps it was the new route, or perhaps yesterday had just been a bad day,
but for all that the dogs did run about like mad things they stayed within
earshot (if not sight) the whole time. As well as hearing the dogs I could also hear
something else crashing about in the woods. As we walked back to the car park we met another dog walker who said she’d seen a herd
of fourteen deer running through the woods. With walk walked I spent a few minutes poring
over Google Maps. “er indoors TM” drives past the motorway
junction on her way to work and had told me it took her over an hour to get
there this morning as the Cows Roundabout was being dug up. And getting to
the motorway via the other junction would mean going through three miles of
road works. I've been saying for a long time that the
presence of any road works should preclude any other road works within a five mile radius, and all available gangs should get
cracking on the existing road works (regardless of which company they work
for). Sadly there is a growth industry in
starting road works but not actually getting on with them... for example
coast bound on the M20 between junctions eight and nine which has had over
ten miles of the fast lane coned off for weeks despite no work going on there
at all. I set off for work… and completely forgot
about the road works and ended up driving through them. At the Cows
Roundabout were two blokes working. One sweeping, one in a small digger. I then went up the M20. No one was working on
the coast bound bit, but I counted twenty workmen standing at intervals up
the contraflow bit. None doing anything, all just standing there. Pausing only briefly to pop into Sainsburys I
got to work… and as is always the case on the late shift, pretty much
everything of note today was done by mid day… |
22 September 2022
(Thursday) - Various Rants
I woke in a
cold sweat following a nightmare in which rather than giving me a pay rise,
the government had ordered all NHS staff to stand at bus stops where members
of the public would give us their unwanted and out of date food, and I had
been getting a lot of verbal abuse from a physiotherapist about a half-chewed
curlywurly. It sounds rather ridiculous, but at the
time it was rather frightening. It was with
something of a sense of relief that I took the puppies into the garden to do
their thing. With puppies
tiddled, Treacle placated and puppies safely
deposited on a sleeping “er indoors TM” I made toast
and watched some "Better Than Us" before setting off to
work. Much of the Cows Roundabout and miles of motorway were still coned off
this morning, but again still coned off for no reason that I could see. And
with absolutely no one working there. As I drove
the pundits on the radio were still talking about President Putin's ranting.
It just amazes me that people are acting surprised at his attitude. Having
much of the world financing a war against him, he's going to have the arse with those supplying the weapons, isn't he? There was
also talk about how Boy George is selling his house. It is up for sale for seventeen
million quid. Seventeen million quid... back when he was famous I
semi-managed a gang of mates who sort-of had a band. I arranged a few gigs
for them at which they never performed as they were always "practicing".
Had they ever practiced enough to perform, might I now be selling a house
worth seventeen million quid? And talking
of selling a house, I've got to find the deeds to my Dad's house... They
aren't with all the paperwork he'd left us and the
bank hasn’t got them. I am reliably informed that deeds are all on-line these
days. I've sent an email to the Land Registry people; let's see what comes of
that. Work was
work; I had a good day with one of the trainees today teaching her blood
morphology. And with work worked I came home to find another slip from the
delivery people. Two days ago the delivery chap put
a delivery slip through the front door claiming that no one was home (and
so he couldn’t deliver a parcel) when “er indoors TM”
was home. They tried to re-deliver that parcel today… I say “tried to
re-deliver”; they just stuck another slip through the door (whilst “er
indoors TM” was home) and they now expect me to go into the
post office in town to collect the thing… The post office’s opening times is
from nine o’clock in the morning till half past five in the evening. I’ve
told the company they can have the parcel back. I didn’t say that they could
stick it where the sun doesn’t shine, but I hope they could infer that from
my tone. “er
indoors TM”
boiled up a particularly good bit of dinner which we washed down with a ten
quid bottle of plonk from Aldi (quality!) whilst watching this week’s
episode of “Bake Off”. I wonder if I
will have a headache in the morning – that cheapo bottle of plonk we had
earlier in the week left me feeling rather grim… |
|
23 September 2022
(Friday) - FTF In The Dark
Waking
far too early this morning I had a stroke of genius. I tiddled the puppies,
settled them with “er indoors TM” and checked my phone. On
Tuesday a new geocache had gone live five miles from home and last night still
hadn't been found. This morning at silly o'clock there was still no find
logged, so with the chance of a cheeky First to Find I drove out to Wye,
acted very suspiciously in the back alleys, found what I was looking for, and
was feeling very smug and driving off to work before dawn broke. As
I drove to work the pundits on the radio were discussing the news of the day.
A lot of consternation was being expressed by the government's
announcement that it is overturning
the ban on fracking. Those whose homes will be destroyed by fracking
weren't overly keen on the idea (and I can see their point), but does
the UK have much alternative? With energy prices going through the roof we need cheap power now. And I can’t help but feel
that as a nation we’ve left it rather late to ask if picking a fight with the
world's biggest exporter of natural gas was such a good idea. Fracking it is,
then… or are we content to live by candlelight? There
was also talk of the new Chancellor of the Exchequer's plans which have
widely been described
as a mini-budget. Apparently
there was very little "mini" about it; being described as
the most radical shake-up to the UK's economy for years. Those being
interviewed (who seemed to understand finance) either loved it or
hated his plans, but all described it as a gamble. The Labour party spokesman
said it was a crap idea, and sat on the sidelines throwing rocks and offered nothing constructive
(as is their way these days). Ironically
as I drove up the motorway through the rain, the weather forecast talked
about the dry day in the South East. With
a few minutes to spare (and having forgotten to make lunch) I went to
the petrol station for fuel for the car and for myself. And then it was
on to work where I did my bit. During the morning I discovered a new case of
hereditary elliptocytosis. Hereditary elliptocytosis is actually
a range of conditions ranging from "you don't know
you've got it and it is found by chance" through to "extremely
debilitating". Fortunately this patient was
one in the "you don't know you've got it and it is found by chance"
group. I'll
go into tedious detail
about it elsewhere, but It is precisely for these incredibly rare
instances that I stare down a microscope so much. The
rain lasted pretty much all day; it slacked off as I left work,
but got heavier as I came home. I had planned to take the dogs to the
woods, but they didn’t want to go into the garden because of the rain. So I sparked up the lap-top and started looking
at the arrangements for Dad’s funeral. The funeral directors had set up a
rather good (if somewhat generic) tribute page. I added a slideshow of
pictures of Dad (rather than the stock photo of a sunset) and removed
all mention of “Thomas” and replaced it with “Dick” as he never
went by his real name. That only took two hours. We’re
now leaving it overnight and if my brother and I can’t think of anything more
to change, it will go live tomorrow… |
|
24 September 2022
(Saturday) - More Pond Filtering
I
woke at silly o’clock and lay awake fretting about probate… from what I can
see if we go to a solicitor it will cost us about
four thousand quid, and if we do it ourselves through the government’s
website we’ll get change out of four hundred. Eventually
I nodded off and didn’t wake until after eight o’clock. I
made toast and as I scoffed it I had a look at the
monthly accounts. I’ve had a pay rise. On the one hand that’s a result. On
the other hand it is less than half of the current
rate of inflation. But either way it is better than a poke up the bum with a
sharp stick. The pay rise was backdated till last April, and it effectively
covered the cost of what I’ve squandered on the pond’s filtration system.
Once I’d counted the pennies I found myself much the
same as ever; far from skint, but equally far from rich. It
was then that the postie delivered the mail. There was a letter from the
solicitors dealing with Dad’s pension. They wanted a copy of the “Bereavement
Grant Application Form”. I wonder what that is? Just when you think you
are getting a handle on it all, something like this pops up. We
took the dogs for a quick walk at Great Chart. A geocache of mine needed replacing. Absolutely anyone could have
replaced it for me; absolutely no one did. So I
popped out a new pot as we walked up almost to the river and back again. We
didn’t quite go as far as the river as I didn’t want the dogs getting soaking
wet. With
dogs walked we came home and I plumbed in the pond’s
new filter pumps. It was rather straightforward. I lifted the rocks out of
the way so I could get to the hoses. I dug the shingle so I could get to the
power cables. I got the old pump out of the pond, cut the old hoses into
suitable lengths, connected the cut hoses to the new pumps, sunk the new
pumps, turned it all back on again, put the shingle and the rocks back and
then had a cuppa. So easy to type; over two hours to do. I
then trimmed up the overflowing stuff from the fences on either side, and
then disassembled the camouflage box I made for the old pond filter (that
went to the tip a few weeks ago). By
then I was knackered. I could have gone out with “er indoors TM”
but my back was rather painful. I put up with its twinging as I did the
ironing whilst watching episodes of “Better Than Us”. It’s turning out
to be a rather good show, but reminds me of “Squid
Game” in that it would have been so much better had they spent a few more
pennies on the translation. And
I also launched Dad’s tribute site today. You can see it by clicking here. |
|
25 September 2022
(Sunday) - Family Birthdays
The
nose piece of my CPAP machine burst in the small hours
and I woke with a nose full of what I can only describe as warm Vaseline.
Yuk! I didn’t (couldn’t) get back off to sleep after that. When
I tried to get up I could barely move; those rocks
in the garden are too heavy to keep moving them about (like I seem to be
doing an awful lot these days). But I heaved my carcass out of its pit,
tiddled the puppies, and made toast which I scoffed whilst having my usual
trawl of the Internet. As
I peered into the Internet Bailey came downstairs and asked to go out. I’m taking
that as something of a result as “doing their business” is still very
hit-and-miss. Mind you I’m hoping she went out to make a deposit and not a
withdrawal. She still does snack on the occasional turd;
seeing them as something of a delicacy. Can’t
see it myself. The
internet was still there. I used it to send out my birthday video to “My
Boy TM”, and to one of the girls at work. She looks about the
same age as him. I wonder if they were born on the same day?
I wonder how I might ask without appearing nosey? I
read that “Wheels of Time” had received an Ashford Borough
Council Platinum Jubilee Civic Award yesterday. “Wheels of Time” is a
local heritage group about which I knew absolutely nothing. It looks quite interesting; I wonder how
many other local groups like that are out there about which I know absolutely
nothing. As
I walked out to find my car I saw a “For Sale”
notice board on nice-next-door. I wonder who will move in there next? No one
ever stays in that house for very long. We moved here in September 1991 when
that house was occupied by a little old lady who kept herself to herself. She
was replaced by the mother-in-law of the other neighbours. We got on well
with her to the disgust of those other neighbours. After
her it is all something of a blur. I can't remember the exact order, and I
may have forgotten some ... There
was the drunk Irishman who would play crap music
incredibly late at night. There
were two young Australian ladies who would sunbathe in the garden in the nip
(I liked them). There
was a Nigerian family who would never pull the blind in their toilet window. There
were two young lads who were great fun. There
was another Nigerian fellow who would regularly have a "crafty Joddrell" into the toilet in the evenings; the
shadows of which on their bathroom blind were rather entertaining There
was the odd couple who tried to blame the flood in their upstairs bathroom on
my downstairs washing machine. There
was the young family who ran away owning thousands (we had the debt
collectors asking after them for months). There
were the people with three dogs each of which was the size of a cart-horse. There
was the nice couple who moved round the corner to Francis Road. There
was the lot who did noisy sex and who moved out in May 2018 There
was the lot who used to run the Elwick Club and went on to run the Albion. There
was the lot who felt they were paying far too much rent who moved in on 9
March 2020 and left 1 August 2020 to go live in a caravan on the Romney
Marsh. The
current chap moved in sometime in September 2020… and now he’s going. In
between all of them the house was empty for a year (on two occasions) Mind
you I wouldn’t want to live next door to me… I
drove round to the abode of the first fruit of my loin and collected “My
Boy TM” and Cheryl. We left Lacey with instructions to make
sure that Ro-Ro was sent out for a tiddle. I suggested her boyfriend also be
sent out for a tiddle too (better safe than sorry), but favourite
oldest granddaughter wasn’t amused. We
went to the pond shop. I needed a fountain attachment thingy for the pond.
But I didn’t know what model of pump it was for; the chap who lived next door
three neighbours ago gave it to me (and it was years old then), so I
took part of the pump into the pond shop. The nice man rummaged in his box of
spares and gave me exactly the bit I needed. And didn’t charge me for it
either. From
there we went on to Dad’s house where we made a start on clearing up.
Ornaments and keepsakes need distributing, photos need scanning, shed needs
emptying… We got loads done. There’s still loads to do, but we got all the
family photos down and the ornaments out of the living room. It doesn’t look
like mum and dad’s living room any more, and that is
a good thing. With
tidying tidied we then went up to the
Conqueror’s March for a family dinner; after all today was “My Boy TM”
‘s birthday. I must admit that I wasn’t expecting much of the place. I
thought it would be just like a Wetherspoons with microwaved ready-meals. I was wrong. The food was excellent. And as an added bonus we met an ex-cub scout, and a friend from
my days in the Boys Brigade that I hadn’t seen in over twenty years. We
came home. I installed the pond’s new fountain attachment, unpacked the
ornaments from Dad’s house that I’d wanted (I expect I’ll go back for
more…), supervised the dogs doing “shares” with the lamb bone that
“er indoors TM” brought home from the pub, and then watched
the dogs eating a celebration tea of sardines. Today was also Treacle’s
birthday… I
really do feel that I now need a day off to recover from this weekend… |
|
26
September 2022 (Monday) - Where Are They Now
Oh,
I ached when I woke up this morning. I heaved myself out of my pit and
hobbled downstairs where the puppies looked almost as tired as I felt. They
are learning that the first thing that happens every morning is that they go
outside, and both trotted to the back door. I watched them going to the back
door with such a sense of achievement... and it is so frustrating when they
still have their little accidents inside. I
made toast, and scraped jam onto it using the
bone-handled knives I blagged from Dad's kitchen yesterday. I quite like
those knives, even if they are quite a bit older than I am. I scoffed toast
watching an episode of "Better Than Us", then set off to
work through the pouring rain. As
I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the after-effects of
last Friday's mini-budget. Over the weekend the
pound has collapsed against every other currency in the world. I'm no
financial genius, but it seems clear to me that neither is our new Chancellor
of the Exchequer (if the global financial markets are anything to go by). There
were reports from the Labour Party conference that the Labour party feel the
UK should adopt some form of proportional
representation in parliamentary elections. Again no one is brave
enough to address the actual problem with British politics; what the country
needs is an electorate capable of making an informed decision. Am I being
harsh on my fellow voters? In support of my cynicism I'd like to make the
observation that
in Italy they've just voted for the most right wing leader since the
second world war and look how well Benito went down (literally). I
got to work and cracked on with the early shift in a somewhat reflective
frame of mind. Yesterday I mentioned I'd met an old pal from my days in
the Boys Brigade of forty years ago. Also when
tidying out Dad's house yesterday I found an old class photo from 1975. I had
seen Gary from time to time over the years, and two of his sisters are on my
Facebook list so I've had vague contact with him. But of my thirty-odd
ex-classmates... Four of them are Facebook friends; I actually
saw one of them eighteen years ago. But as for the rest... I believe
two are teachers (one science, one history) and absolutely anything
could have happened to the others. I wonder what did happen to them? With
work done I came home and took the dogs to the woods. It had rained quite a
bit during the day, and the dogs got filthy. Every year we stop going to Orlestone over the winter… is it time to stop going there
until the spring? |
|
|
28 September 2022
(Wednesday) - The Plumber Called
I
ached all over this morning as I heaved my carcass out of its pit, and my arm
was particularly sore. If not for the arm I would have blamed the bottle of
red wine we swilled last night. But the arm... that
would be yesterday's injection. I couldn't help but remember the
BCG vaccine we all had as schoolchildren after which everyone would cry
out in agony every time anyone went near their injected arm. The pain from
the BCG vaccination lasted for days, or (in the case of the weedier
children seeking to deter bullies) months... or so we all used to pretend After
the morning’s usual toast and telly I set off to
work on a very cold morning. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking
about how both the major pipelines carrying gas from Russia to Europe have
been sabotaged. Like we didn't see this coming? And
the International Monetary Fund have said the UK's
fiscal policy is crap. I
don't really remember much else of the radio this morning. In the sports news
(blah blah sport...) there was an interview with someone with a thick
Scottish accent; so thick that I couldn't understand a word, and my attention
drifted as I found myself more concerned with the traffic which was rather
busy this morning. Far busier than it had been yesterday and Monday when I'd
been on the early shift and was going to work an hour earlier. But
I got to work, and once there I did my bit. In
between work I phoned the bank to ask what I do with cheques to do with Dad's
stuff made payable to "The Executor of...". It only took an
hour to get through to someone. It was a shame that the person to whom I got
through didn't really speak English, but there it is. Eventually he had to
concede he didn't understand a word I was saying and tried to put me through
to someone else... and the line went dead. So I
phoned again. After two and a half hours we established that I need to go
into the bank to cash the cheque... that's a pain in the arse...
And
talking of pains in the arse I spent much of the day
suddenly sprinting to Trap One... I wonder what set that off? Late
in the afternoon a colleague in another department saw me,
and asked how I was. She claimed that everyone who had had the COVID
jab with me yesterday had gone home sick during the day today. I spent the
last part of the day walking round telling everyone how double-hard I was. I
wonder if everyone else who’d had the jab felt as grim as I did and if they
had also had the two-bob-bits. I
came home via the works’ cashpoint machine. “er indoors TM”
had had a plumber round to look at the dripping tap and the overflowing water
tank earlier. He’d said he could sort them both this evening
so I got the dosh to pay him. I
must admit that it was with a sense of “I bet he don’t turn up” that I
sat down and carried on the application for probate and one or two other dull
but necessary chores to do with sorting Dad’s house whilst we waited for him.
Talking to other people who have lost parents I am really
grateful that Dad (and Mum) had got themselves organised.
Compared to what a lot of friends and colleagues have gone through, what we
are having to do with Dad’s estate is far more straightforward. And
I was wrong; the plumber did turn up. Albeit an hour late. But he turned up,
which is far more than many other plumbers have done. He’s replaced the dripping
tap, and is currently getting busy with the water
tank. The sooner he gets done the sooner I get my dinner… |
29 September 2022 (Thursday) - Rather Dull
I have a
vague recollection of “er indoors TM” shouting at Treacle
in the small hours because Treacle was whinging. I wonder what that was all
about? Presumably they sorted their contretemps? I got up a
few hours later, and once I'd done the puppies' tiddle routine I had my shave
and found myself glaring at the new taps. I didn't like them, and I don't
like them. They are perfectly serviceable, but they are new. And I don't do
change very well. I watched an
episode of "Better Than Us", then set off to work on another
cold morning. As I drove
most of the talk on the radio was about the complete balls-up that the new
Chancellor of the Exchequer has made of the economy. He's only done one
thing, and apparently that cost the Bank of England over fifty billion quid.
That's quite something, isn't it? I think most of us would be proud of that (!)
I found
myself looking the Chancellor up on the Internet. Apparently he was once a financial analyst and went from a
newbie MP to Chancellor of the Exchequer in twelve years. The chap was filmed
laughing and pulling all
sorts of strange expressions at the Queen's funeral, and there's now
calls for him and the Prime Minister to go even though they've only been
in place for a few weeks. This is our
third consecutive disaster of a Prime Minister… It speaks volumes about the
leadership of our country that it has gone seriously downhill… downhill from
someone who allegedly had sex
with a dead pig (!) I got into
work and treated myself with the cooked breakfast. It was rather good. I did
spend the day with something of a dodgy stomach, but nowhere near as dodgy as
yesterday's, so that was a result. Today I
spread my lunch break out in bits through the day so as I could carry on
sorting probate and pension wind-downs and all sorts of assorted paperwork
tasks. As I phoned (seemingly) the ten thousandth office of which I
had hitherto been blissfully unaware it struck me that I really should think
about getting my own affairs in order. My plan is
that I will croak before “er indoors TM” and then she can divvy
out the Lego, but you never quite know what might happen. I'm not entirely
sure I can trust the fruits of my loin to sort it all out without squabbling… Today was a
tad dull, really… |
|
30 September 2022
(Friday) - A Rant
I’m
going to have a little rant… Last
night my piss boiled as I wrote up some CPD. I'd had a
message from my professional regulator saying they wanted to put their fees up, and were staging a consultation on the matter. I
expect that most people are unaware of the HCPC… The
Health and Care Professions Council is a statutory regulator of over two
hundred and eighty thousand professionals from fifteen health and care
professions throughout the United Kingdom. Dieticians and paramedics, chiropodists and radiographers... and me. Its
main purpose is to protect the public which it does this by setting and
maintaining standards of proficiency and conduct for the professions it
regulates. Among all sorts of other things it
organises education and training programmes which health and care
professionals must complete before they can be set loose on the public,
it maintains a register of health and care providers who meet their
professional requirements and standards of practice. And they hold tribunals
when these professional standards aren’t met. You
can read
more on Wikipedia, but basically it is a vital body instrumental in
maintaining the standards of healthcare in the UK. But…
They get no funding whatsoever from the UK government. That’s not “not
much”, that’s “none at all”. All that it does (and it does a
lot) is funded from my payments and the payments of all the other
registrants. The HCPC claims that being a financially independent
institution, is crucial for maintaining fair standards for the professions
they regulate. I can’t say I agree with this; especially as this costs me nearly a hundred quid a year in the payments
I have to make to the HCPC. Who
else pays to be able to work? Do you? And now they want to put it up by
another twenty quid a year I
don’t deny the HCPC needs the funding. But is funding the vital work the HCPC
does in this way in any way defensible? Surely it should be funded from the
public purse in the same way the NHS is funded? Look
at schools - do teachers pay for the Teaching
Regulation Agency? No they do not. Neither
do prison officers pay for HM
Inspectorate of Prisons. Perhaps
I might start a national campaign to get my professional body properly
funded… Or perhaps I will just content myself by having this rant and just
pay the extra twenty quid. Whichever I do, I still have either to pay up or
find myself a new job. Going
to lie down now… |
